


fade

by brandywine421



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:38:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1813834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wasn't ready for the doctors, even if there was only one - he wasn't ready.  He might be brain-dead but his soul was still here.  He really didn't want to be a ghost.  He wondered if the secret was letting others find their peace before he could have his own but he didn't want peace, not anymore.  He wanted to stay.  He wanted to prove that he could help, that his life could mean something other than cowering in a corner and designing robots to make cowering easier.</p>
<p>He was still here and there had to be a reason for that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>AKA:  My attempt to crossover </em>The Fades<em> with <em></em></em> Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.  <em>without actually crossing it over.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	fade

**Author's Note:**

> I am still mourning _The Fades_. I was very invested and even now when I rewatch, I still ♥ that show. This fic has nothing to do with the plotline or mythos of _The Fades_ so it isn't a crossover but I tweaked as much as I could to give Fitz a chance to be the reluctant hero that Paul on _The Fades_ never got to be (because of unjust cancellation).
> 
> (And while Jemma, Coulson, May, Skye and Triplett may not be present, they will be involved eventually, that also goes for the pairings.)
> 
> I also apologize for any accidental Americanizing of Fitz's speech patterns.
> 
>  
> 
> ( _And if you haven't seen The Fades, you should do something about that._ )

Leo Fitzpatrick had never been a religious man.  If you asked the people that knew him best, he'd never been a man at all, just a stunted adolescent with too much math and too little maturity in his head.  
  
He had done okay for himself.  He earned some degrees, invented and got to play with some pretty cool toys, and made some pretty good friends.  He'd even died like a man - rescuing a beautiful damsel in distress.  
  
His mom would be so proud he'd managed to kiss a girl before he died.  He hoped, anyway, if she was ever told what happened to him.  
  
Fitz was supposed to be working in a lab somewhere finding a cure for cancer, or eczema; his mother didn't need details to brag to her friends at bridge.  He wasn't supposed to be locked in a pod at the bottom of the ocean.  He wasn't supposed to be firing ray guns at traitors.  
  
But he had made his choices and he had to live, or as it were, die with them.  


* * *

  
_"There's no brain function.  I'm sorry.  He's legally brain-dead."_   
  
_"Damn.  I thought we got him in time."_   
  
_"He's damn lucky to have lived this long.  It was a longshot and we've done everything we can."_   
  
_"Do you want to pull the plug before we call the Director?"_   
  
_"We should let him know.  I hate watching them die alone."_   


* * *

  
He wasn't really floating.  He couldn't look down on his body or anything; he just seemed to be hanging out.  His eyes were closed but he could still see out of them and his ears worked fine, even if he didn't pay attention.  
  
He didn't think dying would take this long.  
  
He wasn't completely sure he wasn't in purgatory considering the unfamiliar surroundings.  It wasn't a hospital but it wasn't a lab, either.  
  
He didn't want to be an experiment.  
  
Brain-dead.  If he was brain-dead, should he still be here?  Definitely purgatory.  
  
Better than hell, in theory, or just a different version.  He didn't want to try the other version though, not yet.  
  
 _"Here he is.  One of Coulson's pups."_  
  
 _"Pups?"_  
  
 _"You know, follows him around trying to impress him enough to throw the ball."_  
  
 _"You're a nut, Barton; remind me to stop talking to you later."_  
  
 _"Sure thing, Cap."_  
  
Huh.  It would be karmic that he would meet his first Avengers when he was dead.  He wanted to preen a little for earning a visit.  
  
 _"They say talking to a coma patient helps."_  
  
 _"Kid's brain-dead, that's not a coma.  I was in a coma once, don't remember a thing."_  
  
 _"You don't think he's still in there?  You think he's passed on?"_  
  
 _"Hell, I don't know.  I try not to think that hard about dying.  I don't want to be a vegetable, though, and this kid's a vegetable."_  
  
Fitz didn't think he liked Barton's tone.  
  
 _"Still.  He shouldn't be alone.  Even though Coulson watching me defrost sounded creepy at first, it's nice to know I wasn't alone the whole time."_  
  
 _"Do you remember it?"_  
  
 _"Some.  I remember people standing over me, talking over me, but it was more of a dream than anything.  Sam's going to be a while; do you think it's all right if I stay?"_  
  
 _"Cap, you're like the president around here, you can do whatever you want.  I'll keep your fan club off your back."_  
  
 _"Thanks for humoring me, Barton.  Bring me any updates if - "_  
  
 _"I know, Cap, I will.  Don't mope too long; it's not a good look on you."_  
  
Captain America, wow.  He didn't know superheroes were so thoughtful but despite his job description, he didn't have much experience with them for a control sample.  
  
 _"Well, kid.  Hope you don't mind the company.  It's quieter in here than anywhere else in this place.  At least I can talk to you without seeming crazier than everyone already thinks I am."_  
  
He had heard whispers that Captain America went off the rails when he took SHIELD to pieces, but Coulson didn't believe it so Fitz didn't think too hard about it.  
  
 _"The doctors say you're already dead, but you don't look too dead to me.  You're hooked up to a lot of stuff, but I've seen people come back from worse.  If you're still in there, you should give it a shot.  We need all the good guys around we can get right now."_  
  
He felt bad that no one had ever explained 'brain-dead' to the Captain.    


* * *

  
Steve, he'd stopped being 'Cap' a while ago, was slightly stuck in the past.  He could understand, in theory, that it would be difficult to adjust to a 70 year time lapse but had never considered it in reality.  Steve was lonely and lost and disgusted with the world he'd come home to.  
  
But Fitz hadn't thought about his brain-death since Steve settled into his space.  He wasn't sure how long it had been, purgatory time was probably different.  Maybe taking confession from a superhero was his penance?  
  
 _"Cap, Sam's looking for you.  Natasha said you aren't returning her texts.  Everything okay?"_  
  
 _"Have you heard from Coulson?"_  
  
 _"They're in a helluva mess in the Philippines, they're going to be a few days, at least.  His 'mum' doesn't want him to suffer and they've got his family under protection."_  
  
 _"Oh."_  
  
 _"Yeah.  Are you all right, Cap?  Steve?"_  
  
 _"I'm tired, Clint.  We lost, we're losing so many.  I don't like fighting a battle when no one gets saved.  What's the point?  I can't...I'm tired."_  
  
 _"You know how this works, Steve.  People die.  Not everyone gets a happy ending but at least...we deserve peace.  The kid needs his peace, yeah?"_  
  
 _"But...he shouldn't be alone.  I don't know him, Clint.  But if he doesn't have to be, he shouldn't be alone.  Give me that?"_  
  
 _"Yeah.  I'll get Sam and we'll all sit and pay our respects until the end.  Okay?"_  
  
 _"Thank you."_  
  
Fitz wondered if he could hold his breath as a brain-dead ghost.  Was he a ghost?  He wished he could talk to Jemma about the probability that souls existed.  Maybe he should have paid more attention at mass instead of scribbling equations in the margins of his bible.  
  
 _"Everything's all about science now.  Sometimes I wonder if faith even matters anymore.  They say you're already dead but you're breathing and your heart is beating and science says that means you're still alive.  There's no such thing as miracles anymore, only science and that's…not cool_."  
  
He didn't like purgatory anymore.  He didn't want to go, he wanted to tell the Cap that science was awesome and that faith didn't have to be about God, it could be about so much more.  
  
He'd never considered faith as an alternative to science no matter how his mother tried to raise him.  But if his mother thought he was dead, if she'd gave permission to pull the plugs - what did that mean for her faith?  He didn't want to be the reason she lost her faith, not now.  
  
He had been ready to sacrifice himself to save Jemma, and he didn't regret it - but it wasn't fair that he was having such an effect on the people he cared about.  Hell, Captain America didn't even know him and he was sad.  
  
 _"Hey.  I'm getting my worried lectures ready for you, Cap, but for now, we're going to sit vigil."_  
  
 _"Thanks, Sam."_  
  
He liked Sam more than the Barton guy already.  


* * *

  
He wasn't ready for the doctors, even if there was only one - he wasn't ready.  He might be brain-dead but his soul was still here.  He really didn't want to be a ghost.  He wondered if the secret was letting others find their peace before he could have his own but he didn't want peace, not anymore.  He wanted to stay.  He wanted to prove that he could help, that his life could mean something other than cowering in a corner and designing robots to make cowering easier.  
  
He was still here and there had to be a reason for that.  
  
 _"Okay.  We're going to turn off the ventilator and he'll go peacefully.  Take as much time as you need."_  
  
 _"Thank you."_  
  
He wasn't aware of the beeping of the heart monitor until the doctor shuffled things around near his head.  He wanted to yell, or scream, something - but he was brain-dead.  He was dead.  
  
He was dead.  Not dying, not suffering or sick.  _Dead_.  
  
Fuck.  
  
"What are you doing, Barton?"  
  
 _"Lighting a candle.  We all have our rituals.  I traveled with some gypsies for a while, figured it wouldn't hurt."_  
  
He heard the flick of the lighter and the slowing beep of the monitor.  
  
 _"What the hell is that?  A moth?  We're at least a mile underground - "_  
  
Fitz saw the moth and had the same question but he could tell it wasn't a normal moth.  He knew enough from Jemma's entomology classes that it wasn't natural.  It fluttered near his face and he felt something.  It didn't feel like dying, but he'd never died before so what did he know?  
  
 _"Don't kill it!  Catch it, we'll take it out."_  
  
The moth landed on his nose and it didn't even itch.  Because he was dead.  
  
He couldn't make out the words of his guests anymore, but he didn't think it mattered as all his senses were muffled, his ghost, his soul fading into the nothing that they'd come from.  
  
But.  But - something _sparked_.  It was like a white hot flare in his stomach - he could feel it, he could feel the pain and the heat and - God, was this the start of hell?  
  
The voices around him rose, panic and the pain spread through his body and he felt himself rising, seizing on the bed, choking - the air, they'd turned off the air but his throat was still full - his lungs were on fire.  
  
He felt the tube yanked out of his mouth and he sucked in a breath, sinking into his body as the beeping of the machine and the fucking moth went nuts.  
  
"Oh my God."  


* * *

  
"You ate a moth," Barton said as the doctor pulled IV's and catheters (how had he not felt that) from his body.  
  
"Are we not talking about the whole 'back from the dead' thing?" Sam asked.  
  
"A bug crawled down his throat, I think that's more pressing."  
  
"Guys, can you not right now?" Steve sighed.  
  
The doctor frowned at the hovering superheroes before focusing on Fitz again with his penlight.  "I - okay, so this isn't my specialty, but I'm pretty sure you're fully recovered and…"  
  
"You can't recover from brain death," Fitz said.  
  
"Oh, you're Scottish," Steve said, visibly relieved that he'd spoken.  
  
The doctor scribbled something on actual paper and scratched his chin.  "I'm going to run some tests, I'll be right back, don't go anywhere."  
  
"I'd really like to get up now," Fitz said.  
  
Sam rolled his eyes.  Fitz recognized him now.  The guy had amazing wings and he wanted to see them so he could improve and get into the mechanics of the flight pack but he knew it wasn't the time.  He ate a moth.  "You SHIELD guys don't know how to stay down, do you?"  
  
"He swallowed a moth, that's so gross, I'm going to get you some water," Barton said.  "I hope it doesn't lay eggs in your stomach."  
  
"Get out," Steve swatted at him before turning to Fitz.  "Um.  Hey, I'm Steve and this is Sam."  
  
Fitz managed to smile despite his restrained, well, terror.  "Yeah, you've been sitting with me for a while.  I'm not a therapist, you know, but you have a lot of issues."  
  
"I told you, even the coma kid knows," Sam said, throwing his arms up.  
  
Steve frowned.  "I thought you'd be on my side since I sat with you.  You heard all that?"  
  
"Wait, don't - shit, you seeing this, Cap?" Sam interrupted with wide eyes as Fitz managed to sit up.  It didn't hurt, not even his arm.  
  
"Oh dear," Steve murmured.  
  
It took a moment too long for him to realize his back felt strange and by then, Steve and Sam had both stepped back.  "What...oh.  That's new."  He had wings.  "If I hadn't been brain-dead a few minutes ago, that would be highly upsetting."  
  
Sam turned to Steve.  "Did you just say 'oh dear' with a straight face?"  
  
"Don't judge me," Steve snorted.  "Do you feel okay, kid?"  
  
"Fitz is fine.  And...I don't feel any different, apart from the whole being alive part.  But..." he hesitated and tried to focus and his wings moved.  "Huh.  I need to research..."  
  
The door opened and Clint returned with a bottle of water.  "Fucking hell, are you serious?"  
  
"At least they don't look like moth wings," Steve said.  
  
He heard the lock click behind Clint.  "We need to discuss this, now."  
  
"The doctors - " Sam started.  
  
"He's one of Coulson's and security is definitely not the same as it used to be.  Half the medical staff is on loan from other agencies and that - " Clint pointed to the wings.  "That's not going to stay quiet.  People around the world are going to start shoving moths down people's throats."  
  
The wings fluttered without Fitz thinking about it.  The guy was right.  
  
There had to be consequences for coming back from the dead.  
  
"They'll hunt you, you'll...we have to get you somewhere secure," Steve hesitated.  "Unless you want to stay."  
  
Fitz patted his head suddenly.  "Do I have horns?  Or a tail?"  He strained to see over his shoulder to the back of the open gown.  
  
"Don't think so," Sam said.  
  
He made his decision.  "Then we have time to research."  
  
"Somewhere secure," Clint said.  "I'll get the quinjet, wheels up in ten."  
  
Sam was the first to move, grabbing Steve's bag and dropping it on the bed at his side.  "Okay, Fitz, time to go."  
  
Fitz pulled on the oversized sweatpants and was glad he'd been left with underpants even if the idea of being undressed and given a catheter was horrifying.  He had to fold the elastic down but at least he was mostly dressed.  
  
"Now the shirt, it should be baggy enough to hide those," Sam said.  
  
"I'm going to cause a distraction, we can regroup in the air," Steve said.  His eyes skimmed over Fitz's wings before he nodded and stepped out of the room.  


* * *

  
"Our quinjet is much nicer than this," Fitz said to Steve, glancing around with more nervousness than he'd felt in the underground clinic.  Sam had left them in the back of the small jet to harass Barton but Steve looked as nervous as Fitz felt.  
  
"Yeah, we're working with scraps lately," Steve admitted.  "I don't ask where Clint and my friends get their supplies.  Or their jets.  The people still loyal to SHIELD have gone underground."  
  
"But you know Coulson."  
  
Steve nodded.  "My team trusts him.  I don't know the man well, but I trust my team.  Can I ask you what happened?  I mean, you said you heard me talking to you, how does that work?"  
  
Fitz hesitated.  "I was still in my body, I wasn't floating or anything and I heard you talking to me.  I guess it's true what they say about it being easier to chat with someone who doesn't know you, because you talked a lot.  But somewhere along the way, I forgot about dying and wanted to come back.  You seem like a big softie but you still fight so I should be able to fight, too, instead of being scared all the time."  
  
"Fear isn't always a bad thing, it keeps us sharp," Steve replied after a beat, scratching his chin thoughtfully.  "You're a science guy, right?  We don't need you on the front lines, you guys do just as much work in the labs and a lot of times, we need that more than fighting."  
  
Fitz felt better hearing that 'science guys' were appreciated by someone at least.  "Where are you taking me?"  
  
"Stark and Banner are in Utah, or Arizona, I'm not sure.  They've got a lab there and they'll be able to do all the fancy scans and tests on you."  Steve sighed and leaned back on the uncomfortable bench.  
  
He felt guilty for taking the man away from the search for his lost friend and Fitz wanted to see his own friends, but the logic for hiding this time was sound.  "Wait - Dr. Banner, the Hulk?"  He was a brilliant scientist but volatile.  
  
"Don't talk politics or NASCAR with him and you'll be fine."  Steve skimmed his gaze over him again.  "What do you think happened?"  
  
"I can't make any hypotheses until I do more research, I need to compare my DNA samples to my baseline and monitor my biometrics and we'll have to get that moth out of my digestive tract to check for mutations," he started.  
  
Steve snorted, amused.  "Okay, you can stop now.  If I'd known you were another genius that talks over my head, maybe I would have decided to hang out with another coma patient."  
  
"That's not very nice," Fitz replied before he realized it was a joke.  


* * *

  
"There's our wayward Captain, good to see you, man," Tony Stark said, giving Steve a friendly hug when Fitz followed him off the quinjet.  
  
The Starks were legendary - he had admired their work as long as he had the cognizance to recognize their genius - probably since conception.  
  
He had to hold it together.  If Captain America was a normal guy in person, maybe he could manage to speak without squeaking to another one of his heroes.  
  
"Hey.  We brought you a distraction, one of Coulson's guys.  He was brain-dead a couple of hours ago but..." Steve started as Stark's eyes scanned him curiously.  
  
He snapped his fingers.  "Leo Fitz, it's nice to meet you - oh, and wings, you have to teach me that, this guy's a genius, I mean, not as smart as me or Bruce, but he's up there."  
  
Leo wasn't sure if he should preen or run for cover but Steve was visibly amused.  "Tony, focus."  
  
Tony shook his head and grabbed Fitz's elbow.  "Sorry, Cap, focus is all about multitasking - walk and talk, are they organic or nanobots, do they move independently, or - "  
  
"Please stop poking my wings, Mr. Stark, thank you," Fitz said, flinching when Tony probed at his feathers (Jesus, feathers!).  
  
"Brain-dead, you said?  He seems pretty lively to me, fill me in," Tony said, grinning with wink and turning his head toward Steve.  
  
"He ate a moth!" Clint yelled from the cockpit as he climbed out.  
  
"Huh.  That's not exactly what I was expecting, but we'll work with that.  Thor and his ladies are here so you're in charge of entertaining the aliens and civilians while we go play science," Tony said.  
  
Steve sighed.  "Fitz, are you okay to go with Tony?  I promise Bruce is much more polite."  
  
Tony protested but turned his face into an elaborate pout when he saw Steve's flicker of a smirk.  
  
"As long as they let me see the results before they send them out to another nefarious classified organization," he replied.  
  
"Hey, we're freelancers now, none of our Intel goes anywhere," Tony said, pulling his hand back from where he was about to poke his wing again.  "Yeah, we have to get you plugged in stat, I want to know all about all of this."  


* * *

  
After hours of scans and blood tests and vague experiments he knew that he could flap his wings but he couldn't fly.  He would have considered it a waste of time if he hadn't been in tech heaven in Stark's workshop.  
  
Tony was a genius but Fitz spoke his language, well, apart from the inappropriate banter - at least Simmons' banter wasn't always sexual.  Bruce said it was because they were British but Fitz agreed with Steve - Banner was much more polite.  
  
"Guys, you should take a break - nothing in here can be more interesting than watching Steve fumble through Sif's inappropriate flirting," a girl his age with hipster glasses announced, sticking her head into the lab.  
  
"Lady Sif is here?" Fitz asked.  "I've met her before."  He wondered how a man who looked like Captain America would 'fumble' when it came to flirting  He was tired, curious and hungry.  
  
He wanted to call his friends but he wanted to have actual answers before exposing them  to his new 'condition'.  
  
"I'm Darcy and I haven't met you before - whoa.  Dude, you have wings, are you the kid that ate the mutant moth?  I hate moths, they're like underachieving butterflies," the girl said.  
  
Tony snickered.  "Sorry to disappoint you, Lewis, they're not moth wings.  They're..."  
  
"We don't know what they are, but moth wings don't look like that," Bruce picked up.  
  
Darcy shrugged.  "I'm already bored, come on, let's go chaperone Captain Awkward."  
  
"Who is she again?" Fitz asked Bruce as they followed her and Tony from the room.  He clutched his borrowed tablet so he could see the evidence as it compiled.  
  
Bruce smiled kindly.  "She's Jane Foster's intern, of 'bff' as she prefers to call it."  
  
"Dr. Jane Foster?  It's like a genius convention, I want to ask for autographs."  
  
He snorted.  "Thor might get his feelings hurt if you ask for his girl's autograph before you ask for his."  
  
"I just wish I had my questions together, Simmons would..." he hesitated.  It had been over a decade since they'd been apart this long.  Wings didn't make up for the gaping hole by his side.    
  
Bruce patted him on the back between his wings.  "Don't worry, you'll be able to see your friends soon."  
  
Not soon enough.  He had so much to tell her about his surprise afterlife.    
  
He shook it off and stepped into a lounge area with that seemed to be a re-purposed conference room with expensive couches and stacks of take out cartons in various corners.  He recognized Thor and the esteemed Dr. Foster on one couch chatting contentedly.  Steve was across the room with Lady Sif looking much like Fitz did when confronted with exposed cleavage.  
  
Sif wasn't in armor this time, she was wearing a revealing corset top under a sheer jacket and skintight jeans.  Steve seemed stuck in a zone between terror and infatuation and his face was flushed red.  
  
"We should rescue him before he has a stroke," Bruce said.  
  
"That would be considered cock-blocking and I refuse to participate," Tony replied.  
  
"Here here," Darcy snickered.  
  
Fitz felt bad for the guy, not that he could do any better but would probably be rendered even more speechless if he tried to help.  
  
"Oh, wow, what else are you hiding down here?" Jane chirped when she spotted them.  He gave a nervous wave.  
  
"That's Fitz and he's our current mystery," Tony answered.  "Guy got ditched at the bottom of the ocean by HYDRA and was declared brain-dead yesterday.  His DNA is unchanged and apart from healed injuries and, well, fucking wings - he's completely normal."  
  
"I know you, you are one of Coulson's men.  You were hurt?" Sif scanned him for injuries.  
  
Thor approached, his face serious but his eyes filled with curiosity.  "There is a magic about him, wings are unusual for Asgardians, is it a common ailment here?  I have seen no men that fly other than the Man of Iron or Falcon."  
  
"I'm pretty sure I can't fly," Fitz said, swallowing thickly under their examination.  "Magic?"  
  
Sif joined Thor to study him closer.  Steve looked relieved when Bruce took her seat to fill him in on results.  "I did not sense magic upon him at our first meeting, but I agree."  
  
"Clint lit a candle," Steve said helpfully.  
  
Thor reached out and tapped his forehead with his thumb and frowned.  "I do not recognize this magic."  
  
Sif rolled her eyes.  "You have never been skilled in the magical arts, Thor, do not embarrass yourself in front of your lady."  
  
"I didn't consider magic, we should do more readings," Fitz said.  
  
"Eat first, and maybe shower, then you can get back to the boring stuff," Steve said.  
  
"I'd like in on the boring stuff," Jane raised her hand.  


* * *

  
He enjoyed the shower a little longer than he should but he appreciated the endless hot water compared to the timer on the Quinjet.  The water ran off his feathers like they were coated with protection, something he had to add to the list of questions requiring further research.  
  
When he dried off, complete with flapping his wings dry, he turned to the foggy mirror to straighten up.  He'd never been much for vanity but considering the people he was sequestered with - he should try to look presentable.  
  
He let out a very manly shriek when he spotted the woman standing behind him.  He spun around and she took a step back.  
  
He could see the door through her.  "What are you doing in here?"  
  
The woman (ghost?) didn't speak but she raised her hand and pointed to the mirror with a twist of her fingers.  He turned and saw the letters ' _IMPOSTER_ ' written in the steam.  
  
"Fitz?  Are you okay in there?"  
  
"Uh, fine!  Be right out!" he called in reply to Steve.  He turned his attention back to the wavy woman in the room with him.  She was beautiful, in an older, motherly, kind of way.  "Who are you?  Are you saying I'm an imposter?"  
  
She frowned and shook her head, waggling her fingers again so he would look at the mirror.  ' _ODIN = LOKI_ '.  
  
He didn't know much about Asgard but he knew that Odin was Thor's grumpy father who ruled Asgard and Loki, well, everyone knew who he was.  "Loki's dead, Thor said..."  
  
She shook her head sharply.  ' _ILLUSION.  IMPOSTER.  HELP._ '  
  
"Shit," Fitz muttered.  "I don't know how I can help, but I'll let Thor know."  
  
He didn't think it was fair of the ghost to roll her eyes at him but she motioned to the door urgently.  
  
He was supposed to be the science guy in the lab figuring out why shit like this happened to other people - he wasn't cut out to be the guy that it happened to.  He thought Ward betraying them would be the biggest thing he had to deal with for a while but now there were wings and ghosts and now _Asgard_.  
  
He wasn't sure he was up for this but the ghost lady motioned to the door again and he made sure his towel was secure before unlatching it and stepping out.  
  
He wanted a second chance and he couldn't give up now.  He'd been dead yesterday.  He could do this.

 

* * *

 


End file.
